


A Double Case of Sniffles

by jeeno2, WordsInTimeAndSpace



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/pseuds/jeeno2, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsInTimeAndSpace/pseuds/WordsInTimeAndSpace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose have come down with the flu.  For better or worse, Jack is there to take care of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Double Case of Sniffles

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the following prompt from OTPPrompts: "Imagine both members of your OTP are sick, so one of their friends has to come over and take care of both of them."

The Doctor scrunched up his nose, trying as hard as he could to fight the inevitable. But before he could stop it a sneeze wracked his body, making him spill the bottle of pale blue liquid in his hands. He snuffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve, before glaring at the mess he made on the table.

He stood there for a bit, his thoughts muddled and confused. Several long moments passed before he finally remembered what he’d been trying to do before he’d been so rudely interrupted

With a groan, the Doctor retrieved a new vial from the drawer so he could try again. Right, exactly 3.2 ml of the yellow liquid added into the blue one. He was the Doctor, and in addition to that he was also _a doctor_. He could do this. Piece of cake.

He held up the vial and the pipette with the yellow liquid, raising them to eye level. His vision blurred. Blinking, he tried to read the labels on the pipette, but they were still fuzzy. The Doctor was confused. Had his eyesight always been like this? Well, no wonder he needed glasses this time around.

With one quick movement he slipped his glasses out of his pocket and placed them on his face, barely able to avoid knocking everything off the table and poking himself in the eye.

When he raised the vial again, his hands were shaking. Weird. Why were they doing that? He wasn’t on a sugar or caffeine high this time, he was sure of it. Rose banned both substances the time he accidentally crashed the TARDIS into a meteor shower. And instead of feeling jittery, he felt tired and sluggish, his eyes burning and limbs heavy.

Maybe he should try sugar and caffeine to feel better. Rose was sick. If he was lucky she wouldn’t notice.

This thought pulled him abruptly back into reality. Right: Rose was sick and she needed him. He only had to convince his body to cooperate long enough to finish this. With the extra vitamin boost he was making she’d be happy and smiling again in no time. He hated it when she was not happy and smiling.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady himself for another attempt, but that was the moment the door burst open. The Doctor jumped, letting out a yelp, and dropped all the instruments in his hands. They landed on the table with a crash.

“Jeez, Doctor. I told you to stay in bed before you demolish your poor ship,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a terrible patient.”

“I’m not sick,” the Doctor said, deciding to ignore the liquids slowly dripping from the table to the floor as he whirled around to face Jack. He regretted the fast motion a second later. A wave of dizziness crashed over him, and he gripped the edge of the table to keep himself upright. He hoped Jack wouldn’t notice his state of distress, but with the way Jack looked at him, he probably knew.

“Come on, let me take you back to bed, Doc,” Jack said with a wink. The Doctor thought he might have to throw up for a second.

Jack rolled his eyes. “I promise not to get too handsy, although you are rather fit in this body. But I will haul you over my shoulder and carry you if you don’t cooperate. You can barely stay upright.”

His legs did feel wobbly, the Doctor had to admit, so he finally nodded. “All right,” he mumbled, and somehow he and Jack made it back to his bedroom. As soon as he entered the room, the Doctor crashed on his bed, letting out a groan. He would never say it out loud, not with Jack in the room, but laying down actually felt quite wonderful. He noticed how Jack draped a blanket over him, but didn’t have the energy to look up.

“You are really lucky you crashed in Cardiff last week,” Jack said as he placed a glass of water on his nightstand. “What would you and Rose do without me now?”

The Doctor’s eyes popped open at the mention of her name. He rolled on his back, trying to get the blanket off him that was tangled around his legs.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked, sounding slightly exasperated.

“Rose,” the Doctor breathed out. “I have to check on Rose.” He propped himself up, blinking as the room was spinning in front of his eyes. A pair of hands settled on his shoulders, gently guiding him back onto the mattress.

“She’s all right, Doctor,” Jack said. “I just checked on her before I went to find you and got her some medicine. She’s still running a fever and is exhausted as hell, but she’ll be fine.”

“I have to see her.”

“You’re just as sick as she is. I’m not sure how much help you would be when you can barely stand up.”

The Doctor was quiet for a few seconds. “But I’m her Doctor,” he finally said, pouting a little.

“ _Her_ Doctor, huh?” Jack snickered.

“Well, yes. Obviously.” The Doctor frowned, trying to figure out why Jack was grinning at him like the cat who got the canary.

“Did you already tell her that?”

“She knows. Doesn’t she? She has to know,” the Doctor said, sitting up in distress.

“It certainly won’t hurt to say it, but I’m sure she does,” Jack said soothingly, and the Doctor let himself fall back into the cushions. He let out a breath. He was too much of a coward to tell her, so she just had to know how much she meant to him. She had to. Jack watched him with a mix of pity and humour on his face.

“You know what, Doctor?” he finally asked. “I think I know how you can help her.”

“What?” The Doctor whipped his head up, staring at him.

“I think Rose could do with a bit of company. And maybe a cuddle. She’s been cold all day, despite the fever.”

“You’re _not_ cuddling her, Harkness,” the Doctor growled, trying to bring up his best Oncoming-Storm glare that only made Jack chuckle and roll his eyes.

“That’s why I’m asking you.”

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks. His mind whirling, he tried to come up with the list of reasons why this was a bad idea. He knew he had that list stored somewhere in his brain, a constant reminder why it would only end in pain and heartbreak should he ever get involved with Rose Tyler. But at this moment, his illness-plagued mind came up with nothing. Thinking about it made his head hurt even worse than it already did, so he decided to stop.

“All right,” he said, feeling a little light- headed. Jack looked surprised for a second, but then he was eager to help the Doctor out of bed. The TARDIS seemed to be cooperating as well, so they only had to cross the corridor in order to arrive at Rose’s room.

Jack knocked, waiting for the muffled groan of approval before entering he room. Rose was lying in bed, buried under two blankets with only her head poking out underneath them. She opened her eyes, watching them bleary-eyed and with rosy cheeks, sweat covering her forehead. She looked miserable, although she tried to smile at them, and it made the Doctor’s hearts clench in his chest. With a few broad steps he was at her side.

“Hello,” he whispered, gently placing a hand on her forehead to take her temperature.

“Hi,” Rose replied weakly, leaning into his touch. With his senses clouded by sickness as well, the Doctor couldn’t pin down her exact temperature, but he could tell the fever wasn’t too serious. Still, it was enough to make her uncomfortable.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Rose let her gaze sweep over his face and her lips curled into a smile.

“About as good as you look,” she joked and the Doctor laughed.

“I’m not looking that bad, am I?”

“Yes, you do,” Jack interrupted. “And that is because he is a terrible patient who refuses to rest. Doc, if you’re not getting into a bed right now on your own, I’m gonna make you.”

The Doctor looked from Jack, standing at the end of the bed with his hands on his hips, back to Rose. He felt panic rising in the depths of his stomach, but before he could say anything Rose scooted over, making room for him next to her. She smiled at him, a warm and encouraging smile that melted all his doubts immediately, and within seconds he was in bed with her.

He heard a relieved “finally” coming from the end of the bed, but he didn’t pay any attention to Jack. Because as soon as he was under the blanket, Rose curled around him, wrapping an arm around his waist and letting out a content hum. Before the rational part of his brain could kick in, the Doctor curled an arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer into his side. He heard the door close as Jack left the room.

The Doctor frowned as he gently stroked his fingers up her back and up to her neck. Her skin was hot to the touch, heat rolling off her in waves that he could feel only now with his body pressed flush against hers. Rose shivered in his arms, whimpering quietly. Cursing the virus that was making her so miserable, the Doctor trailed his fingertips along her jaw, hoping his cooler skin could give her some comfort.

Rose opened her mouth, about to say something, just before she squeezed her eyes shut tight and succumbed to a coughing fit. Rubbing soothing circles on her lower back, the Doctor tried to calm her until her coughing subsided.

“Shhh,” he said, rocking her gently when she began to sob a little, exhausted, against his shoulder.  

“You’re all right, Rose,” the Doctor said, his voice a little hoarse. “Everything’s going to be all right, I promise. Jack’s still here. And I’m in the process of mixing together a special vitamin supplement for you. I’ve got –“

A violent sneeze – and then another, and another – cut off the Doctor’s reassurances. Rose tightened her arms around him, rubbing circles on his back as she tried to provide comfort.

“I’ve… got you,” the Doctor finally finished, mumbling the words into her hair, when he was able to breathe again.

“We’ve got each other,” Rose corrected him gently, sniffling and nodding her head against his shoulder.  She scooted down the bed a little until her head rested comfortably on his chest.  The Doctor instinctively tightened his hold on her and tenderly kissed the top of her head.

The Doctor didn’t remember letting her go, or how long they stayed like that, wrapped around each other. The last thing he remembered before exhaustion finally dragged him under was Rose, pressing gentle, feather-light kisses to his jaw and sighing against his cheek.

* * *

 

When the Doctor woke up he noticed three things almost immediately.

First came the realization that he felt better.  Not all the way better, mind; but certainly much better than he’d felt before falling asleep.  His was still a bit snifflier than he would have liked but at least he no longer felt on the verge of physical collapse.

Secondly, by the horrid taste in his mouth and how off-kilter his time sense was it was clear he had just woken up from a very long sleep. For him, anyway. The Doctor couldn’t see the clock on the bedside table without rolling over and disturbing Rose, but –

The Doctor let out a loud, involuntary gasp the moment he made his third discovery. Which was: he was currently lying underneath a warm, soft, prone body in a bedroom that was very much not his own.

The Doctor peered down at his companion, still sound asleep despite his sudden outburst. His chest served as her pillow as her hair fanned out around her in all directions. She was sweating a little – a possible sign her fever was breaking up, the Doctor hoped – causing some of the shorter tendrils in front to stick to her forehead.  His arms were wrapped around her, fastening her closely to him, and her lips, parted in slumber, breathed a steady rhythm of sweet, warm air against the sensitive skin of his neck.

He felt a familiar fluttering sensation in his stomach at the sight of her, at the feel of her, sleeping on him and lying like this in his arms.

Was there ever a moment in which Rose Tyler was not indescribably beautiful?

Unconsciously, the Doctor shifted a little. As if on cue Rose mumbled something in her sleep, snuggling even closer. The pyjamas she wore were thin, as were the blankets that covered them. He was able to feel every inch of her through the thin layers separating them as she pressed more closely against his lean frame. She let out a quiet sigh, the sound so unintentionally luscious the Doctor had to bite his lip to stifle an answering moan.

The Doctor had no clear memory of how he ended up in Rose’s bed. He remembered talking to Jack in the infirmary, assuring him he felt perfectly fine and trying to make him understand he had to take care of Rose – and then everything went very, very fuzzy until the moment he woke up with Rose. In her room. Holding her in his arms. And wondering just how in the bloody hell any of this had happened.

The Doctor craned his neck a little and pressed his cheek to Rose’s forehead. Still a bit warm, but his earlier guess had been correct: the fever she’d had earlier was definitely breaking up.

He had just begun pondering exactly how he was going to extricate himself from this most precarious situation when Rose stirred in his arms.

When she continued moving, rather than settling back down into sleep, the Doctor began to panic.

His arms – still holding her against him simply because he didn’t know what else to do – tightened reflexively around her body. He held his breath, terrified of what her reaction was going to be when she woke up fully and saw her dodgy old alien traveling companion in bed with her under the covers.

 _Not just in bed with her_ , his subconscious lectured. _Lying underneath her._

Rose opened her eyes slowly. When she saw the Doctor she blinked at him several times. She yawned, loudly, and stretched her legs a little.

And she smiled.

“Good morning, Doctor,” she said easily. “Sleep well?”

“Erm,” the Doctor said. He removed one arm from around her and tugged nervously on one ear. “Wellllll….”

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” the Doctor admitted. “How are you feeling?”

“Brilliant,” she answered with a tongue-touched smile.

Without another word Rose eased herself out of his arms and sat up. She stretched both arms over her head, yawning again. Her pyjama top shifted upwards a bit in the process, exposing a small strip of bare stomach to the early morning light and the Doctor’s eyes.

For a few seconds he could only stare at the bit of skin suddenly exposed, until he suddenly realized what he was doing. Blushing, the Doctor tore his gaze away from her, hoping she hadn’t noticed how he was ogling her.

“I’m glad Jack’s here,” Rose said, cutting into the Doctor’s anxious thoughts. “Last night would have been miserable without him.” She laughed a little. “That would have been a laugh, yeah?  The two of us, sick as dogs, trying to take care of each other.”

At the mention of Jack’s name the blurry outline of a memory from last night suddenly sprang into his consciousness. What was it they’d been discussing?

The Doctor glanced at Rose, lying back down and snuggling up to him again – and then it came back to him in a flash.

 _It certainly won’t hurt to say it._ That’s what Jack had said. And he was right, the Doctor suddenly realized. Because what if she _didn’t_ know? The thought made his hearts race, anxiety coursing through his veins. He needed to know that she knew.

“What is it, Doctor?” Rose asked, missing nothing. He glanced at her and saw a look of genuine concern etched on her face. “Are you all right?”

“Rose, I-” the Doctor began. He stopped, gulping, before he continued. “Yes. Yes, I’m – I’m fine.  It’s just- I need to tell you something.”

The urgency in his voice seemed to alarm her. She blinked away the last remains of sleepiness and bit her bottom lip.

“What is it?”

“It’s… it’s nothing,” he said, rushing out the words. “No. No, that’s not true. It’s not nothing. But I’m- I know I’m not good with words. Oh, I can talk a mile a minute but I don’t actually say anything, do I? But there are some things I want to say, probably need to say, but I just- I can’t-” He took in a shuddering breath. “But I need you to know. I-”

“Doctor,” Rose interrupted, her voice gentle but firm. The Doctor closed his mouth mid-sentence. Reaching out to cup his cheek, Rose brushed her fingers over his stubble, and for a few seconds they only looked at each other. Rose’s lips finally curled into a smile.

“I know,” she said, her eyes shining.

The Doctor’s hearts skipped a beat. “You do?” he asked, a little breathless.

“Of course I do.”

Breaking out into a grin, the Doctor dipped his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He tried to pull back, but Rose wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him close. Their eyes met, and the Doctor felt a warm flush that had nothing to do with any fever spreading on his cheeks. A moment later Rose pressed her lips to his, gentle and chaste. She pulled back briefly, just before doing it again, and again, and then a fourth time.

Grinning down at her, and feeling more than a little dazed, the Doctor reciprocated, gently brushing his lips against her cheek and across her jaw, before finally bringing his mouth back to hers for a kiss that mirrored hers in tenderness.

When he pulled back, Rose threw her arms around his neck and laughed a little, breathlessly.  He pulled her to him and kissed her again, more insistently this time, their legs tangling together under the blankets as her hands found purchase in his hair.  He felt the tip of her tongue tentatively trace along his bottom lip and he bucked involuntarily, rather like he’d been electrocuted, and everything was happening unbelievably fast but he opened his mouth for her anyway, giving her access, giving her everything.  Because if there was one truth in the entire universe it was that he would never be able to deny Rose Tyler anything she wanted.

* * *

 

Later, the Doctor wasn’t certain exactly how long Jack had stood in the doorway, watching them kiss and twine together in Rose’s bed before making his presence known. All he knew was that right in the middle of the best snog he’d had in centuries, the person he suddenly hated more than anything he’d ever hated in all of his lives started to laugh.

Suddenly, Rose froze, going stock still in his arms. She abruptly pulled away from the Doctor, cheeks flushed in embarrassment and hair mussed from his wandering hands.

“Oh hey!  Don’t let me interrupt you,” Jack said. But he was still laughing, and the Doctor was going to kill him.

The Doctor bolted upright and tried his best to fix Jack with his most intimidating Oncoming Storm glare. It only made Jack laugh harder.

“I took care of both of you all night long while you were sick – and managed to finally get you two crazy lovebirds into bed together – and _this_ is the thanks I get?”

The Doctor, scowling, fumbled around on the floor for a moment. When his fingers closed around something that felt vaguely launchable he threw it as hard as he could in the direction of Jack’s head. But Rose’s trainer was wide of the mark by a solid six inches, and it smacked the wall next to Jack’s head with a loud thunk before crashing back down to the floor.

Taking the hint, but still laughing, Jack backed out of Rose’s room before shutting the door behind him.

An awkward silence filled the room. The Doctor anxiously glanced at Rose out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a read on what she might be thinking right now.  Her face was flushed, and beautiful as always, but completely unreadable.

Then she started to laugh too.

“Doctor,” she said, lying back down on the bed. She turned her head on the pillow to look at him, grinning broadly, the tip of her tongue just peeking out of the side of her mouth. He knew he shouldn’t be staring at it, at her -- but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “I reckon we ought to stay in bed for a while longer, yeah?”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, not daring to hope that she might be suggesting what he thought she was. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her smile grew. “I still feel a bit woozy, don’t you? We wouldn’t want to, you know -- rush out there into the Vortex straight away. We better wait to save the galaxy again until we’re in tip-top shape.”

She giggled. It was a happy sound, with no trace of nervousness. On hearing it the Doctor’s nervousness instantly melted away.

He reached for her and she willingly came, resting her head on his chest again and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“You’re brilliant, you are,” the Doctor murmured, kissing the top of her head.  “And you’re also right. Better to be safe than sorry.”


End file.
